Archive for the 'the struggle' Category

Here we go, bitches. What is “The Most Gigantic Lying Mouth of All Time?”

I’ll give you all a couple of hints. It’s kinda like a hole, that you get sucked into. You get lots of information from it. Even if you don’t think you are getting “information” from it, it’s giving it to you in the form of opinions, ideas, stories with morals, pictures, sex, and the whole deal.

Radiohead came out with a bunch of short clips and all this other shit that was created only through fan artwork. People sent in their trippiest videos and graphics, and Radiohead made 4 “TV Shows,” which were just 30-minute long music videos of songs and shit.

Quite frankly, the shit was nuts when it came out. Nuts.

The funniest part is that to watch “The most gigantic lying mouth of all time,” you have to turn on the TV. Classic British snooty irony. Classic.

Break it down to some Idioteque, bitches. Shit was released in October of 2000. The top 5 Pop Artists that year were Destiny’s Child, Santana, N’Sync, Christina Aguilera and Faith Hill. Notable mentions include Sisqo, Savage Garden and Creed.

What the fuck is wrong with us, listening to this shit and putting it in our domes? Seriously, what the fuck do these songs talk about and shit? Whether you like it or not, when you listen to it, it’s going into your brain and making some type of fucking connection or impression in your brain, and you just let it happen. What the shit is wrong with you people?

Please don’t take my musical rants as a form of artistic snobbery. Quite frankly, I don’t care what people listen to, it just amazes me THAT they listen to such bullshit. While Radiohead is basically prophesizing the end of the world as we know it, we are listening to Faith Hill and N’Sync. That is how “in sync” we are with the reality of our situation in the world on the earth we listen to. Pop music is like fake lullabies for adults (and adults in the making), kinda like sit-coms and shit like that are for TV.

Remember, kids, Friends is not your friend. Phoebe and Joey really don’t like each other; in real life, Joey is a coked-out weirdo who pays guys for sex, and Phoebe is a Yale graduate who is a lot smarter than you are.

And, at the bottom of it all, I am making assumptions about you, the loser reader reading this blog. I assume that you know what’s going on in the Real World, not the World As We Are Supposed To Know It. I really don’t think we are going to get nuked in the next week, but the social and economic structure underlying the human world is DRAMATICALLY SHIFTING, and has been for the past ten years or so. The US is losing its grip as the King of the Mountain, and that fact is quite undeniable and unarguable.

I will be here, live, to report the end of the world as we know it. I used to always joke about the Mayan end of the world, coming up quick on December 21, 2012. I don’t take it too seriously, though, because humans can’t and won’t ever be able to predict the future with any degree of certainty, just look at the stock market. I also don’t want to come across as that fucking idiot at UF who got TAZED the fuck out on Monday. That guy was obviously a fucking idiot fucktard who doesn’t know how to deal with the Man reasonably. If the Man wants to put you in handcuffs, you better let him, or he is going to fuck you up. Dumbass. In addition, I did feel like the guy was pushing it too hard, and being even slightly violent when the cops stepped in. Listen up, kids, the Man is bigger than you, the Man is in control, and there is nothing you can do about it.

Take it easy, bitches. Don’t forget to watch Idioteque and listen to the words.

Fear not ye who stare in dumbblankfacerificatio. This blasphemous affront from he with the royal nose and created royal lineage will be met with brutally harsh impunity. He will be crushed with my iron gauntlet as I mold his flacid will like a piece of wet clay.

The King’s claim to royal lineage is false and ridiculous. My children, King Stoney was once a young grasshopper in my School of Debaucherous Edification. This State sponsored program reluctantly admitted the Prince to imbue the naive Prince with the necessary rejection of extravagant material objects and extravagant g.p.a.’s . What the young Prince did not realize is that this propagandalistic program of debaucherous inundation and and murdering of reason was to weaken the privileged for our worker’s revolution. My arduous work of the last few months, day in and out, working into the wee hours of the night, was for the building of my barnesian army.

I am a man of the people. My father, a poor dirt farmer who struck oil through his rural education, rose through the ranks of the privileged like the early Blogres lineage that King Stoney claims. Abandoning me in his quest for the tainted coin, I was raised in the hardened industrial center of our land. I am a worker that will crush the priviliged and distribute their wealth to the people. Rise against your attacking tyrannical despot who rules with wild passion and uncontrolled partiality. Join the ranks of the industrialized worker. Sign up at your local Volkswagen dealer.

In my brilliant plan of genius, I paved the way to revolution through my puppet P.M. Sunburner. He is a weak man of the senses swayed toward the passion. He is a weakened by his addiction to the witch’s brew squeezed of the rotten teat. His ludicrous claim of peak conditioning and corpus care are being revealed by the pictures provided by Morel the Destoryer, a man of truth.

Taken after his royal decree last night

Suppressing the Truth

Destroyed by his Extravagance–Poisoned by Morel the Truthsayer

Let this be a lesson to all who oppose the strengthening of the Bloggerland. Sunburner is an example of any who stand in the way of our glorious revolution of the people. Treacherous lechery will be Punished!

In a predictable unexpected turn of events, P.M. Sunburner has disposed of his newly befriended assassin. In his ruthless ruthnicity, the P.M. beguiled the attacker into a partnership of death. No, not the scythe to his iron hand, the attacker became the victim of his glorious impunity. The colossal hand that now makes Blogres strong and empowered to meet the agression of any would-be agressors has come down on any who oppose it.

It seems that shortly after the Toast of Sunburnable Brotherhood the P.M. threw the attacker off of the Royal Balcony where he plummeted to the marble floor, falling to his death. The P.M.’s delight in destroying all those who oppose the Bloggerland will assure the people of his pledge to protect the people from the royal despotism with brutal force. “I will destroy all those who oppose my shepherding of the followers of the Book of Savagery”, said the P.M., “But, I will usher in a newer, stronger Iron-age in which our land is impervious to the flacid assaults of limp troglodytes.”

The P.M.’s promise of a stronger land rising from the ashes of the former King’s debaucherous disregard for public affairs was compounded by a State exposition of strength, physical prowess, and the P.M.’s superior body type. “Not only through genes, but arduously hard repetition, can you too approach my chiseled greatness. I take care of my body, I am believe in preserving the sanctimonious temple which is the human body. I am outlawing all manufacturing, sale, distribution, consumption, and even speaking of substances harmful to the realization of your goal to approach the human specimen that is me. Any caught consuming drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, or polska kielbasa will immediately be executed. Do not fear my children–I will liquidate the threats to our ever-lasting security. Everything Must Go!”

–Morel the Destoyer–

Brought to you by our friends at Costco–Destroying Small Businesses One Zip Code at a Time

Exactly the type of citizens his gloriousness wants. Both the violent teens and the complacent videographers. Don’t forget to check out our new thirteen year old punani section. Now in boxes of a dozen– baker’s dozen that is. –Costco 😉

The drama of the foreign invasion has escalated in the last few hours as P.M. Leopold Sunburner was attacked by a would-be assasin while giving his second decree.

The identity of the attacker has been revealed. In a tribute to the long forgotten fighter of injustice, El Kabong, the defiler of the sanctity of the sanctimonious new P.M., was stopped not by security, but the iron hand of Sunburner.

His foiling of the attempt was not accompanied with a bum rush of security or the summary execution as expected, but a peace offering. It seems the P.M. recognizes the assailant as the now dishonored and disgraced former American presidential candidate. Aligned closely in their political persuasion, they ironically have become great friends and confidants. A proposed consulship and extermination of the exiled King is rumored to have and still be considered.

We, the Royal Press, will continue to bring you the continued late breaking newsworthy news. Heil Sunburner.

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Similar to the blietzkreig’s lightning attack of speedy fast quickness, a foreign invader has conquered vacantly empty Blogres. The invading invaders advantageously took advantage of King Stoney’s debaucherous debauchery on a weekend retreat into the depths of the dark wooded forest of ghouls and plentiful fairy dust. The Minister of Defense, Roughty McRoughton, and his army of little green Alesman sensed the plot afoot and attempted to meet the insurgent infidels but was impeded by the River of COX’ s Dam break and flooding of the southern swamps of the South end of the Kingdom. The sole availabe resource to meet invader was the King’s Huntsman, SuitYourSelf the Busy, but the woodsman was off hunting the woods for herbs, berries, fish, and small game. Now, all that stands in the invader’s way is the Blacksmith, Twitch the White, also the Court’s Rebuter empowered solely with the title of Premier Commenter.

Travelin’ by day in their own land, the conquerors arrived in the early hours of Blogres and seized the Book of Savagery–the incredulous edict of the King and his court. With this powerful empowerment the invader gained total controlocity in the unthinking subjects longing for the gift of endowed savagery. They will now listen in dumbblankfaceirification to the holder of the Book of Savagery.

His Awesomeness, Chancellor Ixniamak, the head of the new government, has issued his first decree:

Mouth-breathing, grass smoking, wannabe Fuckenstein polska opposition like this will be eliminated:

Do not fear, my children, I will be victorious in battle

Your Loving Father and Chancellor,

We, the Royal Press, promise to bring you all the details. We hope we can bring you an exclusive of the Chancellor’s ceremonial Sulfuric Acid baby-head baptismal. We will exploit all means to bring you the most suffering, death, and destruction of any news organization.

–Morel the Destroyer–

Brought to you by Apple, Pickers of the Tree of Knowledge, (censored by the Committee to Kill the Human Spirit):

Well, i started this post looking for a funny cycling picture to add some humor to my rather bland story of an incident related to an earlier post. Of course, in finding this i was compelled to share this golden nugget with my brethren of the blog. this one’s for you guys. stoney, no stall ones up in the heezy.

unrelated to this post’s purpose i wanted to relate my cyclist story. so, i’m flying around town as everyone knows i do, (especially suit– i know how you hate me in the driver’s seat when i’m not stoney baloney) and i see a cyclist coming onto the busy mountain road i’m cruising up. i anticipated his upcoming disregard for traffic law because of the previous story about dumbass cyclists. he runs the stop sign turning in front of me to maintain his speed to get up the hill. now, of course i was all but prepared by my defensive agressive new jersey fuck you driving skills (my only weaknesses being looking out the window and looking at the people i’m talking to) and i yelled “that’s a stop sign” out the window at 45 in a 35. when reached the top of the hill i decided it prudent to pull over and try and reason with this american flag jersied cyclist. hoping to fulfill my duties as a good american, objectors note t. j. our great hypocritical alumnus’ quote, “dissent is the highest form of patriotism, i waited for him.

tj: oh yeah, he liked pure chocolate. he bought as much as he could

surprisingly he reached me fairly quickly and pulled right to the side of my car, hand on my roof. he looks at me and i say, “you know there was a stop sign back there, right? you could have gotten killed out here.” in a wanker english accent, defiling our constitution by wearing the flag as a garment, he responded, “you’re right.” well, as i was about to say something to the effect of “it’s a little different in the states” or something selectively patriotic to the tune of love it or leave it, he interupted with a rude good bye. well, that was the end of the encounter, i almost got a flat pulling to the side of the road to wait for him, but i thought of the irony of the situation in checking the wheels. obviously a good cyclist judging on the speed he took the hill, you would figure he would first, know the rules, second, enjoy the hill climb, and third and finally, not be so gay. i guess i think it’s nice he is representing lady liberty, but nonetheless it’s pretty gay. if he truly analyzed the importance of old glory and the time it was made, as well as refined, he would know that his motherland represents everything we fought against. however, rather ironically, it now represents that which americans fought so hard to rebel against. i guess it all comes down to how gay the age of the nation state has become and always was. if we want to be realistic about it, it all comes down man as beast (ahh, my favorite topic)

while visiting the extremely gay d.c. infected nova, i found a first year secondary school paper documenting a school required event that was possibly sponsored nationally. it was called random acts of kindness week. now, far superior to tv turn-off week, i found great joy in reminiscing as well as disgust in the requiring of such week. while waiting to pick up my buddyon his last day i began talking about high school life at my school with some lady and a beautiful dog panting in his huge coat not made for any climate like ours. She put it clearly in saying, “it’s so different here from virginia. it’s like the cool kids are mean. if you’re nice you’re weird”. in the land of the almighty dollar and the bottom line, as opposed to the equally bad image obsessed west coast, their is no time for southern hospitality because you interfere with making another buck. ever notice when you ask, “how ya doin’ “, people don’t know what to say. they have so long heard it used as a statement rather than a question that it shocks them, stuttering out a response after you wait seconds for one. anyway, this post did not go in any direction i intended, but i am resolved to invite my fellow brothers of the cough to participate in random acts of kindness. in now way am i suggesting you do not already act in kindness , but i hope you will join me in spreading love at your most busy and difficult time.

if you don’t well, that’s your bag baby, but i hope you will join me in search of self-improvement.

on another totally unrelated side note, stoney, i was reminiscing with roughty about blasting the curveball you tried to sneak by me at the monticello fields. what a cowinky dink– monticello–sweet.

and, i’m slumping in the drunken firemen’s softball league of champions at a dissapointing .667, but i’ve been shagging plenty out in the cornfields and ripped my first inside the park homerun of the year though it’s in question by my harshest critic– good ol’ i me mine. i would mark it as excellent base-running and terrible rag arms though it’s in the book as a giddyup.

that’s for you, suit. that’s my boy, a buffalo soldier. though he plays nothing like me, i enjoy his love of the game and hatred for the business. that’s why he takes as much money as he knows they’ll give him and jogs to first base. all while working on his hitting more than any player in the majors. plus, you know he smokes the pot. sweet.

Editors note: an act of kindness could be removing the objectifying pic at the top, but in the passage of time (seems 70’s-80’s) this violated lady might revel in her beauty and youth. in addition, anonymity is on her side. the backside, oh snap!

2nd Editors note: (other driving weaknesses include, but are not limited too: lighting cigs, talking on the phone, rolling blunts, rolling joints, bouncing a tennis ball against the windshield when bored, searching through my ipod, the combination of up to three of these at a time, improper maintenance as evidenced by the baloney skin i’ve been driving around on for months, and hands at 12 and deez.